Valkyria Chronicles: Liberty Brigade
by Michformer
Summary: When Jacob Watfen gets embroiled in a civil war between the Confederacy of Eastern Gallia and the Coalition of Western Gallia over the question of Darcsen slavery, he and his friends in Squad 47 must fight off the Confederacy in the name of freedom and equality for all. But wounds of Watfen's tragic past reopen, and he realizes that he's the key to Gallia's prosperity...and demise.
1. Prologue

**Valkyria Chronicles: Liberty Brigade**

Let me know what you think of my fanfiction so far by writing a review.

Also, bear in mind that this fanfiction is a work-in-progress. I'll update it with more chapters as time goes on. Frequency of updates may vary.

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><p><strong>Prologue:<strong>

"_Give me liberty, or give me death!"_

_- Patrick Henry_

Cold.

That was the first thing I felt when I regained consciousness. I slowly opened my eyes and was treated to a howling snowstorm and a subzero temperature as I tried to get my bearings. I could not see well at all, with the snowstorm blurring my vision and the temperature freezing my eyelids.

I tried turning my head but I felt a huge pain on my forehead. I could feel something sharp stuck on it, including blood that was slowly dripping down my face. I did not want to imagine what was stuck on my head, fearing that it would accentuate the pain. So I tried moving my body, but I felt an even greater pain. It was as if I had been hit by a train.

Nevertheless, I persisted and slowly moved my right arm, which was not as broken as my left one. I reached for the sharp object that was causing great pain. But when I grabbed it and tried to pull it out, I essentially started to torture myself: I could feel my skull being torn asunder as I desperately tried to remove the object. With one sudden pull I managed to extract the fragment from my forehead, but the pain had reached its apex: I cried so loud I could be heard miles away.

But no one came to my aid: I was standing in the middle of a blinding and deafening snowstorm that had me imprisoned within its thick white veil. After taking a moment to relieve myself from the pain, I slowly got up and took a good look at my surroundings as the snowstorm calmed down.

I was standing on a snowy meadow, surrounded by hundreds of soldiers who lied motionless on the ground. Strangely none of them appeared to be wounded. It was as if they had been knocked out rather than killed. Suddenly I started to hear a flaming sound in the distance. It was loud and managed to break through the noise barrier created by the snowstorm's howling. It was coming from a short distance. My legs felt brittle, but I was able to walk, albeit slowly.

As I walked towards the source of the flaming sound I started to feel hot. What could emit such a powerful heat wave in the middle of a freezing snowstorm? But as I made my way up a steep hill, the heat grew stronger and stronger. When I reached the hilltop I was standing in front of a giant crater, roughly 300 yards wide. I took a closer look at the center of the crater and realized that the source of the flaming sound was not a "what", but a "who". A woman, more precisely, whose pale body was emitting a blue flame. She was facing the other way and was carrying a lance on one hand, and a shield on the other. Her long and silky silver hair was blowing in the wind. She looked like an angel, one whose descent upon the earth was so hard that the impact ravaged the landscape.

But before I could so much as take another step forward, the woman slowly started to turn her head towards me. Her piercing and glowing red eyes struck terror into my heart. She had blood splattered on her right cheek, and her face revealed a soulless expression that made her look like a remorseless killer. As I stood on the hilltop, my eyes started to widen in fear. Suddenly, I stopped breathing: I felt like she was going to seal my fate, and within a heartbeat, I began recollecting past events. How did I end up here? Why did fate guide me here? Those were questions that only the past could answer…


	2. Chance Encounter

**Chapter 1 – Chance Encounter:**

The first thing I remembered was Meppel, whose shiny cobblestone streets, bustling town squares, and vibrant vegetation painted a picture of a beautiful town that was teeming with life and happiness. You would have to try hard to nitpick any imperfections, which Meppel did not have. No Meppelian could complain about the town's quality of life, and I did not do anything to go against that norm.

I was making my way to the town's parochial school where I was raised as a child. Back then, I had always been fascinated by what was being taught in class, including the teachings of our holy goddesses, the Valkyrur. I could remember my father, the school pastor, rave about how the Valkyrur laid the foundations for our glorious planet and offered the gift of prosperity to mankind. Children outside of school would make fun of me for believing such things, but I knew that if I wanted to succeed in life, I had to have faith in the goddesses and serve the cause of my religion.

Before graduating from school, I promised my father that I would honor his legacy by devoting my life to the Valkyrias. He passed away before he had a chance of seeing me in my graduation gown and congratulating me for my hard work. Nevertheless I followed in his footsteps and became his successor after graduation.

Assuming the position of school pastor was no easy task: you had to be in class on time to set an example to your pupils, repeatedly preach about the Valkyrian Gospel, and be free from sin. My father flawlessly abided by those three simple rules, so I certainly could perform my duty as a pastor just as effectively.

As I was walking down the streets of Meppel, I noticed people waving at me amicably. Everyone in town knew me as a kind-hearted and compassionate fellow who would not hesitate to help the needy. I waved back at them, and suddenly I saw a girl run towards me.

"Father Watfen, Father Watfen!" shouted the girl. Her freckled face, dark blue-black pigtails, and creamy white skin gave her the appearance of a small angel, and her radiant smile showed that she was happy to see me. I never met the girl before, but seeing her run towards me with such a cheerful expression was enough for me to put my books down, kneel down, and hear what she had to say.

"Father Watfen, I…I just wanted to offer you this," said the girl as she handed me some kind of doll.

"Thank you, my child," I replied. I gently took the doll from the girl's hand and took a closer look at it. The doll had short black hair, was made of thatched fisher-grass, and wore a pastoral suit. The girl undoubtedly modeled the doll after me.

"Did you make this yourself?" I asked the girl.

The girl was too embarrassed to answer my question. Her face was so blushed that she started to look like a strawberry, with her freckles resembling the fruit's achenes. But I gave her confidence by putting my hand on her shoulder. I smiled at her, and eventually she found the courage to reply to me.

"Y...Yes," she said.

"You have talent, my child. I am deeply touched by your kindness, and I pray that your act of generosity will not go unrewarded," I responded.

"I just wanted to thank you for all the work you have been doing for us. I just wish there were more people who would treat everyone equally and with love, people like you," said the girl. The word "equally" had caught my attention. What did she mean by that? Did she face persecution at some point in her life? And suddenly, I knew why she used that word: the girl was a Darcsen.

I started to feel pity for the poor girl. She belonged to an indigenous race of Europans who were persecuted throughout history for allegedly causing the "Darcsen Calamity", a conflict between the Valkyrur and Darcsens that nearly brought about the end of the world and that was largely blamed on the Darcsens. Some people would argue that the Valkyrur were the ones responsible for destroying hundreds of cities and killing millions of people within them, and that the goddesses laid the blame on the Darcsens. Even if that were true, I still believed that Darcsens and Valkyrian scholars could co-exist peacefully. The bitter animosities of ethnic and religious warfare had ended thousands of years ago. I could not succumb to the hatred that many Gallians harbored, especially considering that as a pastor, it was my duty to spread the Valkyrian Gospel in an inclusive and compassionate manner.

"Child, you have nothing to fear," I told the girl as I softly held her hands. "You are safe in our community, and you will always be looked after and cared for, no matter the circumstances. We will not allow bigotry and ignorance to taint our morals."

The girl started to shed some tears, not of sadness, but of happiness.

"Thank you, Father Watfen," she whispered.

She wiped the tears from her face. I let go of her hands, and she subsequently ran away. I was just performing my duty as a pastor, but people around me believed that I was one of a kind. I could not blame them: the people of Gallia were still recovering from the wars that had ravaged the country in the past four years, but most of them could not help but point fingers at the Darcsens for causing the wars. So seeing benevolent pastors accepting gifts from Darcsen girls and complimenting them for their generosity and kindness was something that people were not used to, but those who cared knew that I was doing the right thing.

I looked at my watch and realized that I was running late for class, so I had to make haste. I knew that I could not test the patience of my superiors, especially when you consider that I was supposed to live up to the expectations set by my father.

After running for roughly three minutes, I was exhausted and took a moment to catch my breath. My hands were on my knees and I was breathing heavily, to the point where I started to wheeze a little bit. But the cool spring breeze did its best to mend my fatigue. A few seconds later, I lifted my head up and realized that I reached my destination.


	3. In A Class By Himself

**Chapter 2 – ****In A Class By Himself**

I was standing in front of the parochial school of Meppel. Its tall tower, striking wheel windows, and smooth beige walls were a sight for sore eyes, and stood out from the brick buildings that comprised most of Meppel. Time had been very kind to the school's wonderful architecture: it looked just as pure and polished as it did a dozen years.

I could see the school principal standing in front of the door. The tall, gray-haired man was looking at me, with his arms crossed, and tapping his feet. He knew that I was late, and he definitely was not happy about it.

I had no wishes to keep him waiting any longer, so I approached him, and before I could even utter a word, the principal quickly pointed out my failure to arrive on time.

"Jacob Alexander Watfen, your pupils and I were expecting you a while ago," said the principal. "Do you mind explaining your lack of punctuality on this particular day?"

The principal was clearly frowning: his face and demeanor exuded authority, and he was the kind of person that expected excellence from the school faculty. I highly respected the man, so I was just as disappointed as he was. Without hesitation, I quickly responded to him.

"Sir, please accept my humble apologies. I crossed paths with a young girl who offered me a gift of gratitude that truly touched me," I said as I showed to the principal the doll that the girl on the street gave to me earlier.

The principal looked in awe at the doll. He clearly understood the reason for my delay.

"My, I hardly knew that our future generation had such a knack for crafting such wonderful objects," said the principal. "Tell me, was it a Darcsen that offered you this doll?"

"Yes," I replied.

"I am not surprised: you have done an awful lot for the people of Meppel, including those who face undeserved persecution on a daily basis. I am just glad we have people like you in our great community," said the principal.

"Sir, may I ask you why you said 'on this particular day' when I approached you?" I said.

The principal was still looking at the doll. I had to remind him of my presence.

"Sir?" I said.

"Hmm? Oh right!" said the principal. "Well, we just received an important guest who came all the way from Randgriz yesterday night. We had to make some special preparations here and there to ensure that our guest feels at home."

I was surprised by what he just said. Why would someone from our great capital take interest in our humble abode? And what was so important about that guest? I had to see this for myself.

"I do not wish to keep my pupils waiting," I told the principal. "I shall head to class right away."

The principal nodded. "You may do that," he said. "But I would like you to meet our guest after you are done with your class. She seems rather friendly, so I thought the faculty and I would like to organize a reception for her tonight. You should consider joining in."

"Yes, sir," I replied.

So I rushed to class, hoping that my pupils did not grow bored of having to wait for me. They were fine children who were eager to learn about the Valkyrur, and I was more than happy to sate their mental appetite.

Before stepping into class, I adjusted my collar and put the doll in my pocket so that my pupils will not be distracted by the object. Being a rather shy person, I took a deep breath before grabbing the doorknob and opening the door. I stepped into class and was greeted by my pupils who cheered my arrival.

"Father Watfen, we were getting worried!" said one pupil.

"We thought you would not make it to class," said another pupil.

I put my belongings on my wooden desk before addressing the class.

"Calm down, children, calm down," I said to the class while displaying a smile. "I just suffered a minor delay. There is no need for you to worry."

Suddenly, someone caught my attention: a woman was sitting in the front row of the classroom. I never saw an adult attend one of my classes. I could not help but ask her who she was and what she was doing in my class.

"I apologize, but who are you?" I asked the woman.

The young and formally dressed woman closed her eyes and cleared her throat before opening her eyes again, revealing her striking blue irises that looked like they were visibly refracting light. It was as if I was looking at a pair of sapphires.

The woman was about to talk, so I shifted my attention to what she was going to say.

"No, I should apologize," said the woman in her mellow voice. "I should have introduced myself earlier when you entered the classroom. My name is Charlotte, Charlotte Dujour. I arrived in Meppel yesterday night."

Yesterday night? So she was the important guest the principal was talking about earlier! She clearly looked important, with her finely combed brown hair and shiny jewelry giving her the appearance of an aristocrat.

Knowing that I had to make her feel at home, I responded to her in a courteous manner.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, Ms. Dujour. We are about to start class and I would hate to keep you and my pupils waiting," I said to her.

"Oh please, do not mind me!" she said as she lightly chuckled.

The woman clearly looked a bit embarrassed. I was just being polite, though I sounded chivalrous to her. If my goal was to make her feel at home, then I definitely overdid it a little bit.

In any case, I had to start class with one of the school's most sacred traditions: the class prayer. So I kindly asked everyone in the classroom, including Ms. Dujour, to put their hands together and bow their heads in preparation for the Valkyrur's Prayer:

**Dear Divine Valkyrias,**

**Thank you for today.**

**Thank you for ways in which you provide for us all. For Your protection and love we thank you.**

**Help us to focus our hearts and minds now on what we are about to learn. **

**Inspire us by Your Holy Spirits as we listen and write.**

**Guide us by your eternal light as we discover more about the world around us.**

**We ask all this in the name of the Valkyrur.**

**Amen.**

As I ended the prayer, the class looked at me in awe. To my pupils I seemed like a loving father figure who would not hesitate to come to their aid. Those poor souls who lost their parents during the two previous wars that ravaged our great nation needed some kind of moral guidance, which was why I felt guilty for not arriving on time on this particular day.

Ms. Dujour was looking at me with a confident smile, the same one I gave to the young girl on the street earlier that day. It seemed like Ms. Dujour and I had a lot in common. But I had to cast such thoughts aside as I needed to start the lecture.

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><p>"Alright, children. That will be everything for today," I said when the lecture was done. "Tomorrow, we will cover the Darcsen Calamity. For homework, please make sure you read chapters 5 and 6 of 'The Valkyria Theory'".<p>

I suddenly started to hear whines in the classroom. Were the pupils complaining about the work I just assigned them?

"Please, Father Watfen! We want to learn more!" said one pupil.

"Yes, Father Watfen! Let us cover the Darcsen Calamity now!" said another pupil.

I felt relieved after hearing what they just said. It meant that I was doing my job properly. But I certainly understood their concerns. After all, I did arrive late in class and we did not have enough time to cover the material thoroughly.

"Come now, children. You will have plenty of time tomorrow to learn about the Darcsen Calamity," I told them. "I promise that we will have extra class time tomorrow to make up for today's shorter class session."

The pupils stopped whining and calmly packed away their notebooks and pencil cases before leaving the classroom. Everyone left except Ms. Dujour who was waiting for me by the door. I knew she wanted to talk to me, so I grabbed my belongings and approached Ms. Dujour to hear what she had to say.

"I really enjoyed your class, Father Watfen," she said. "I am especially impressed with the way you charismatically explained the tenets of life that were laid down by the Valkyrur."

Upon hearing her compliments, I started to blush a little bit and wondered if she was returning the favor: now I was the one feeling a little embarrassed! I realized that we had much more in common than I previously thought.

"Thank you very much for your kind compliments." I replied. "In all honesty I was just trying to live up to the legacy my father left."

"Your father?" said Ms. Dujour with a hint of curiosity in her words. Before she could utter another word, our conversation was cut short by the principal who came behind me and patted me on the back. He caught me by surprise and I thought he would chastise me once more.

"Well, my dear Watfen, are we having fun with Ms. Dujour?" said the principal as he lightly chuckled.

I suddenly found myself in a bind: I had to quickly respond to the principal for fear of appearing like an idiot in front of Ms. Dujour, but I could not offer him an asinine answer. My shyness was getting the better of me and my heart started to beat incessantly. What should I do?

"There is no reason for concern, Mr. Friley," said Ms. Dujour. "I was simply complimenting Father Watfen for his peerless performance as a school pastor. I must say, he easily in a class by himself!"

"Really?" said the principal. "So our good friend here truly has potential! I bet your father is singing your praises right now, Watfen."

I started to feel stressed. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck, but I could not remain silent for long. I had to get away from Ms. Dujour and the principal, or else I would faint.

"Ms. Dujour, Principal Friley, I greatly appreciate your presence, but unfortunately I need to leave as I have a few errands to run." I told them. "Have a good day, and may the Valkyrur bless you!"

Before I could so much as step away from them, the principal lightly grabbed my arm.

"Now, now, Watfen. Did you already forget about the evening reception we had planned for Ms. Dujour?" said the principal.

"The reception!" I said. "I...I had completely forgotten about it, sir. I apologize for my ignorance."

Ms. Dujour started to titter. I suddenly felt ashamed for making a fool of myself in front of her, and lowered my head in shame.

"Father Watfen, you should not be so apologetic." she said. "We were just teasing you! You are too immersed by your work."

"Precisely," said the principal. "Perhaps spending some time with the faculty and Ms. Dujour will help you relax a little bit, my dear Watfen. After all, you do deserve to have some fun!"

I could not refute their arguments. They were right: I was so intent on honoring my father's legacy that I deprived myself of any form of entertainment. I was a pastor, sure, but I was also a human being, and human beings could not be enslaved by the work they are doing.

"Alright then," said the principal. "I am looking forward to seeing you at the reception. It would be a real shame if you deprived our dear guest of your presence."

The principal let go of my hand and I subsequently left the premises. Once more I was reminded of the fact that I could not let my close ones down, including Ms. Dujour. So I decided to attend the evening reception after much hesitation. One night off surely would not kill me, right?


	4. Antebellum Reception

**Chapter 3 - Antebellum Reception **

I returned to the parochial school after sunset, but I noticed that the place was pitch dark. It was as if no one was inside the building. Nevertheless I entered the building and walked down the long and empty hallway. I could not see a thing, so I took out my lighter to light my way. Apparently everyone forgot that I was coming to the reception and did not bother to turn on the lights.

As I ventured further into the building, I could start hearing laughter and music coming from the dining room. The reception was certainly being held there as the rest of the building was completely silent. Suddenly my worries about the reception being canceled were laid to rest. I could not imagine coming to school in the evening and realizing that I was all alone in the building. I always carried a fear of being completely alone in the dark, but I knew that I had to overcome that fear. How ridiculous would it be for people to realize that a 21-year-old pastor is afraid of the dark?

When I reached the dining room, I once again adjusted my collar and took a deep breath before walking up to the door. This unfortunate habit of mine came to fruition soon after my father's death, and it was one that I simply could resist doing: when you inherit the legacy and profession of a man as flawless and reputable as my father, you cannot help but try to be a perfectionist, which puts a lot of pressure on you. I have yet to mean anyone besides me who has to cope with this issue.

But this was no time to be self-critical. I knocked on the dining room door, and suddenly the music was cut off. They knew I was here.

"Stay here, I will get the door," said one of the faculty members in the dining room.

I could not turn back: I had to overcome my shyness, or else I would make a fool of myself. The footsteps grew louder, and soon enough, the doorknob started to move. The door was slowly opening before me. I did not know what scared me most: the creaks from the door hinges, or the prospect of partaking in the reception?

"Jacob, you made it!" said the man who opened the door. It was Herbert, one of my fellow parochial colleagues. He was quite pleased to see me as he greeted me with his cracking smile and the kind of character that you cannot help but like. He was a swell guy, to say the least.

"I thought you would not make it!" said Herbert. "Sorry about the lack of light, but we had to save power seeing that the school budget is currently running a little dry. I mean, it is not every day that we host a party in the building."

"I can understand that," I replied. "I decided to come after much consideration. I could not let any of you folks down."

"Well you did the right thing, Jacob," said Herbert. "Anyway, I am sure everyone will be pleased to see that you came. Please, come in!"

I was happy to oblige, so I went inside the dining room and noticed that the faculty really went all out with the decor: garlands were hung on the wooden walls, chandeliers were lit up like a lighthouse, and flowers were placed on every piece of furniture. I started to wonder just how important Ms. Dujour was. She could not be just your average Randgriz belle. No, there was something very special about her. I had to find out for myself.

While I was following Herbert to the banquet table, I heard a clicking sound and the music was playing again. It was undoubtedly coming from the radio which, I suspected, must be responsible for eating away at the school budget. Those things were extremely practical, but also very expensive. What was the point of buying one for the parochial school if you were only going to use it for recreational purposes? Unfortunately, no radio station in Gallia was interested with cooperating with Yggdist figures and broadcasting religious messages. When you consider that the biggest players in the media business like GBS Radio are religiously neutral in nature, you cannot help but think that the radio was invented to corrupt the minds of the populace. I personally do not own a radio, and probably never will.

Herbert and I had arrived at the table, and everyone was there: Principal Friley, Ms. Dujour, the faculty, and even the lunch ladies! Apparently I was the missing link as there were only two seats left at the table, one for Herbert and one for me.

"Guess who came knocking at the door," said Herbert as he pointed his thumb at me.

"Watfen, you arrived right on time. We were just about to start the reception without you!" said the principal. "Please, take a seat."

I sat down next to Herbert, and another faculty member. Ms. Dujour was sitting opposite to me, and she was talking with one of the faculty members. She seemed to be enjoying her time at the reception.

"Ms. Dujour was talking highly of you earlier," said Herbert. "She seems to be taking a deep interest in you. How come?"

I started to blush a little bit. I knew I could not offer an answer that sounded like I had an affair with her, but I could not simply ignore him. After all, it was not every day that you impress Randgriz natives like Ms. Dujour.

"She...she was in my class earlier today," I replied. "She told me that she was so impressed with my teaching skills that I was in a class by myself."

Herbert looked very surprised. He was probably wondering how someone as reserved as me could make an impression on Ms. Dujour.

"Really? Well, I must say, Jacob, you sure have a knack for leaving a lasting impression on everyone you meet," said Herbert.

"I guess you are right," I replied with a smile. I was thinking about the Darcsen girl I met earlier today on the street. If I had the power to bring a smile on everybody's faces, then surely I was capable of doing great things as a pastor. That was what my father told me before he passed away.

I saw the principal stand up from his chair, and he started clinking his glass with his spoon. The reception was about to start.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?" said the principal. "We are gathered here tonight to greet our wonderful guest, Ms. Charlotte Dujour, to our parochial establishment. Ms. Dujour was sent by Her Highness, Archduchess Randgriz, as a way of showing her gratitude and support to the people of Gallia, and we would like to take the opportunity to thank Her Highness and welcome Ms. Dujour to the wonderful community of Meppel."

The principal then raised his wine glass and shouted: "A toast to Ms. Dujour and Her Highness!"

Everyone in the room, including me, raised their glasses and gave Ms. Dujour a warm welcome to Meppel.

Everything made sense to me now: what made Ms. Dujour so special, why she came to Meppel… But there was one question that was left unanswered: why did she come to our parochial school, more specifically? What prompted someone as important as Ms. Dujour to choose our humble institution over Meppel's city hall? That was where most political messengers stayed when passing through Meppel.

Suddenly my stomach started to growl loudly. All that thinking made me hungry, but I did not have to suffer for long, as the lunch ladies started to serve dinner to everyone. They had my favorite on display: roasted porcavian! Seeing the little critter's grilled body was enough to make my mouth water. So I decided to dig in and ask questions later.

As soon as everyone finished eating, the principal and Ms. Dujour started to talk to each other. I was wondering what they were discussing. But before I could make any assumptions, they stood up from their chairs and walked around the table while looking at me. They probably wanted me for something, but what exactly?

The principal approached me, rested his hand on my shoulder, and whispered to me the following words: "My dear Watfen, would you be so kind and escort Ms. Dujour to the guest room on the second floor? She wishes to have someone at her side, and I need to stay here to tend the rest of the guests."

I was not at all surprised by what he just said. Of all the faculty members at the parochial school, I was the one whom Ms. Dujour knew best, so I could understand why the principal wanted me to take Ms. Dujour to the guest room upstairs. But I could not help but feel that there was another reason why Ms. Dujour wanted me by her side.

I stood up from my chair and kindly asked Ms. Dujour to follow me to the guest room.

So Ms. Dujour and I left the dining room, and I realized that I had forgotten about the dark hallway.

"Hmm, it is dark in here," I muttered. "Hold on, let me get my lighter out."

I grabbed my lighter from my left pocket and lit it. Ms. Dujour and I could now see the hallway.

"There we go!" I shouted. "Follow me, Ms. Dujour."

"Please, call me Charlotte," Ms. Dujour replied.

I was surprised by what she just said. We have only known each other for less than a day, and she already trusted me to the point where she wanted me to call her by her given name. Suddenly another question popped up: why was I so special to her? It could not simply be the fact that I put up a good show in class earlier that day. But again I had to put that question in the backburner for now as I had to escort Charlotte to the guest room.

So we made our way to the parochial school's second floor. The hallway on that floor was dirtier and narrower than the one on the first floor, but that was understandable considering that the second floor was right below the attic. I had fond childhood memories of going to the attic with my friends every Friday night and tell horror stories while holding a flashlight under my face to appear menacing and scary. I probably made more people wet their pants than I would have liked, but I still had plenty of fun with my friends and we even considered the attic to be our second home. It was just that special to us.

Charlotte and I went down the hallway and reached the guest room's door, which made a loud creaking sound when I opened the door. Apparently no one bothered greasing the door hinges since the guest room was seldom used.

"After you," I said.

I followed Charlotte into the room which was quite spacious, but only had a bed and a desk. "Bare-bones" was the only word that could describe the guest room, but the same thing could be said about the school budget. The more I think of the institution's finances, the more I wonder how we are still operational. If only the principal had not spent most of the money on renovations for his office.

Charlotte sat on the sheetless bed and started to look out the window. She was probably pondering on something, and I did not wish to disturb her, so I decided to leave her be.

"Well, I am going back to the dining hall," I told Charlotte. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, have a good night sleep." I turned the other way and walked out the door.

"Wait," said Charlotte.

I immediately stopped walking, and looked at Charlotte. Did she need something?

"Is there something wrong?" I asked her.

Charlotte looked away from the window, and held her left arm with her right hand. Something was telling me that she was feeling uncomfortable.

"Please, stay with me," she said.

The sad and fearful look on her face said it all: she was worried about something. But what, exactly?

I sat next to Charlotte on the bed, put my lighter away, knowing that I did not need it for now, and approached her. I was ready to hear her concerns.

"I am here," I said. "Tell me: what is bothering you?"

Charlotte sighed, but she was willing to talk to me.

"I have not been fully honest with you, Father Watfen," she told me. "I feel the need to tell you the real reason I came to Meppel, and why I came to this school in particular."

At that point I realized that my questions regarding her presence in Meppel would finally be answered. I was all ears.

"I am listening," I said.

Charlotte cleared her throat, then began talking.

"A few weeks ago, Confederate activity had been reported around this sector. General Henry Thurmond believed that the Confederacy of Eastern Gallia was performing some reconnaissance and the Gallian Army monitored their activities to see if they were planning an attack. We did not believe that they were going to attack, but we could not rule out the possibility of aggressive action, so we decided to perform some reconnaissance of our own, and I was chosen for the job. I came to your school to keep a low profile, but something tells me that I am being watched."

"You are safe here," I told her. "There is no reason to feel paranoid. We might be in the middle of a conflict, but that does not mean we have to let bad circumstances affect our well-being. My father once told me that when you stumble when you are fearful and you should never lose hope, for it is hope that guides us all."

"What was your father like," she asked me as she looked at me in the eyes,

"He was...a unique pastor," I said. "He was more than a pastor, actually. He was also a fervent activist who helped the community cope with the atrocities of war and unite Meppel, in spite of racial and ethnic animosity. He took the religious template of Yggdism and gave it a social touch. He sadly passed away soon after I graduated and I was willing to honor his legacy by succeeding him. He also gave me this shortly before his death."

I took something out of my pocket and showed it to Charlotte. She gazed at the item, wondering what it was.

"What is it?" she said.

"This is an Yggdist pendant. It is my family's heirloom and was worn by my ancestors, including my father, to show that they were dedicated to the Yggdist cause. Every devout Yggdist wears a pendant that displays their religion, but this one is unique in that it was possibly crafted by the original Valkyrur themselves."

"Really?" she said.

"Well, I am not entirely sure," I said to her. "But it does have a peculiar design that distinguishes it from other Yggdist pendants. So, maybe?"

Charlotte started to yawn: she was feeling sleepy. And so was I: I had trouble keeping my eyes open and I knew I could not stay up for long.

"It is getting late," I told her. "You should get some sleep."

"Please stay with me," Charlotte said. "I know you said I should not feel paranoid, but I would feel safer if you were by my side for the night."

I sighed, but I could not say no to her. After all, I did not have the energy to walk back to my apartment.

"Alright," I said.

Charlotte smiled and thanked me for understanding her concerns. But the bed was too small for the two of us, so I decided to sit on the chair that was right next to the desk and wished Charlotte good night.

"Good night, Father Watfen," she said to me.

"Please, just call me Watfen," I replied.

Charlotte started to sleep, but I kept my eyes open, knowing that she would feel safer if someone kept an eye on her. Looking at her made me realize how much I cared for her, even though we just met earlier that day. I always showed care to my pupils and the community in Meppel, but there was something about keeping an eye on Charlotte that made me realize that I was taking my dedication to the next level. But I was reminded of my humanity when I started to slowly close my eyes and went to sleep.


	5. Not My Kind Of Town

**Chapter 4 - Not My Kind Of Town **

I was awoken in the middle of the night by the faint sound of gunfire. I stood up from my chair and walked towards the window to see what was happening. The town was pitch dark as the street lights were not lit. Something was not right: I could not recall a day when the lamplighter did not do his job, and the gunfire was getting clearer and louder. I started to worry and had to wake up Charlotte.

"Charlotte. Charlotte, wake up," I whispered to her incessantly as I shook her.

Charlotte started to slowly open her eyes. As she stood up, she stretched her whole body and looked at me with her eyes half-open. She was still sleepy, but at least she was all ears.

"Watfen," she said. "Why did you wake me up? It is three in the morning."

"Charlotte, do not panic," I told her. "But I think I am hearing gunshots in the distance."

Charlotte widened her eyes and gasped. She was clearly alarmed by what I just said.

"Gunshots? Oh God!" she said. "We need warn the others before they…"

Before she could finish her sentence, a blinding light followed by the deafening sounds of an explosion that came from outside rocked our senses and once the dust settled, the building right across the street was completely decimated by some kind of explosive. This time, I was sure of it: Meppel was under attack.

"Holy smokes!" I said. "We cannot stay here. We have to go. We have to go NOW!"

I quickly grabbed Charlotte's hand and we both made a mad dash for the corridor. Fire from outside was illuminating the hallway, and we knew that the school would suffer a fate similar to that of the neighboring building in a matter of minutes. We quickly went downstairs and entered the second room on our right. We ended up in the principal's office. It was full of paperwork and religious trinkets here and there, but we had no time to admire the scenery. We had to act fast and escape the carnage.

"What are we doing here?!" said Charlotte. "We need to get out of the building!"

"I know," I replied. "But we cannot afford to exit the building from the front door. Who knows if we are going to be cut in the crossfire out there?"

"Then what are you planning on doing?" said Charlotte.

"Give me a moment, will you?" I replied.

I looked under the principal's desk and clicked on a small button that revealed our ticket out of here: an escape hatch that was hidden under the desk.

"Alright, that ought to do the trick. Let's get a move on!" I said.

Charlotte nodded and we both climbed down the hatch ladder. As soon as we reached the bottom of the ladder, we started to hear loud footsteps coming from the school's hallway. Someone was coming. Could it be one of the members of the faculty?

"Search the building!" said a man coming from the hallway. "Look for any civilians and bring them in!"

Charlotte sensed danger and emitted a loud gasp.

"Confederates!" she said. "They are here!"

"In that case, we cannot afford to be followed. We must close the hatch!" I said.

"No, we do not have time for that. We have to make a run for it. Lead the way, I will cover your back!" she replied.

"Cover my back?" I said.

Charlotte quickly whipped a gun out of her coat. I could not believe she had a weapon on her the whole time!

"Wait, you have a gun!?" I said. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

"For fear of startling you folks," said Charlotte. "I could not afford to come to town unarmed and vulnerable, so I had to keep a weapon on me at all times. But right now, we need to make a run for it. It sounds like the soldiers are closing in."

"I agree. Follow me, and stay close!" I replied.

So we both made our way through the secret tunnel and ran as fast as we could to get away from the Confederates. I never used this tunnel before, but I did not have time to think about what we would do next. My mind was firmly set on running.

"Watfen, can you explain to me why a religious institution would ever dig out a tunnel like this?" Charlotte asked.

"Well, back during the Second Europan War, the faculty was extremely paranoid and feared Imperial attacks, so the principal decided to have the town municipality create some kind of secret passage that leads everyone in the parochial school out of the building. We never actually used the tunnel before, since no Imperials or rebels bothered attacking Meppel directly," I replied. "It really ate at our budget and the principal insisted that it was a necessary investment, but if past experience has ever taught me one thing, it is that our principal is certainly not frugal!"

"I can tell!" Charlotte said as she chuckled.

We were reaching the end of the tunnel and we suddenly started to pick up a really putrid smell. What in the world was lying at the end of the passage?

"Good gracious, that stench!" Charlotte said.

And when we finally reached the end of the tunnel, we realized that we ended up in the sewers.

"Not exactly what I was expecting," I said. "But at least there aren't any Confederates down here."

Charlotte and I covered our noses as the noxious smell was too much to bear.

"If my sense of orientation is correct, we must be right under one of the town's inns. I can smell booze and excrement down here," I said.

"What's our next move?" said Charlotte.

"We should probably go east from here. We will probably end up in the river that's right next to town. It's unlikely to be patrolled by Confederates, so we probably stand a good chance of not being spotted" I said.

"Sounds good," Charlotte replied. "Lead the way."

So we made our way east and as we ran, we noticed the cracks on the ceiling getting bigger and bigger, and the earth even started to shake. The town was getting increasingly battered by the second. I could not imagine seeing the entire town obliterated, so I tried to forget about what was happening up there. It certainly won't look like my kind of town by the time Charlotte and I get out of this mess.

As we were making our way towards the river, we started to hear voices at the end of the sewer tunnel.

"Explain to me why it was a good idea to send us down here in the sewers," said a man further down the tunnel.

"Civilians are likely making their way out of town through the sewers," said another man. "It happened before, believe me. Our job is to ensure that no one makes it out of town unscathed."

When Charlotte and I reached the sewer intersection, we saw half-a-dozen soldiers patrolling the catwalks. They knew we would use the sewers to get out of town, and the way to the river was blocked off by one of the Confederates. Charlotte and I hid behind a pile of rubble to avoid being detected. We did not know what to do.

"Shit! They knew we would be here," whispered Charlotte. "I can't take them all at once with my gun, and we're likely being followed by the Confederates back at the school!"

She was right: there were too many of them, and the gun wasn't silenced, so firing a single gunshot would be like signing our death warrants. We had to sneak past them.

"Charlotte, listen. If we are to escape the sewers safe and sound, we'll have to get past those soldiers without being noticed. We'll try to move under the catwalks without making any noise, got it?," I said.

"Sounds risky, but I'll try," Charlotte replied.

"Okay. When the soldiers are looking the other way, we'll both move together. Just follow me, and I'll guarantee that we'll make it out alive," I said.

Charlotte nodded. Now we had to wait for the soldiers to look the other way. They moved slowly enough to give us a wide window of opportunity, so we could not afford to waste it.

"Alright, I think we can move," I said. "Follow me."

Charlotte and I quickly and quietly ran towards the catwalks. Stealth was our only option. One false move, and we would all bite the dust.

"Okay, we're good," I said. "Now let's wait for one of the soldiers to be above us. Then we'll move at the same pace as he does so that he provides some kind of cover for our escape," I said.

"For a pastor, you seem to know a lot about tactical maneuvering," Charlotte remarked.

"It's nothing, really. I got that experience from my time playing hide-and-seek with my friends back when I was a kid. Only this time, the stakes are much higher," I replied.

By the time we were done talking, one of the soldiers were right above us. Now was our chance!

"It's now or never. Let's move," I whispered.

So we both moved quietly under the soldier without making a single noise. Thank the Valkyrur Charlotte was not wearing any high heels: that would have only made things more complicated.

"Hey Dillan, can I borrow a smoke from you?" said one of the soldiers.

"No smoking while on duty," replied the soldier standing in front of the tunnel leading to the river. "Besides, you'll only worsen the smell down here. And you know damn well that you're hooked to the stuff!"

"Come on, I haven't had a smoke in weeks! Tell you what, if you hand me a cigarette, then I'll buy you that fancy Bruhl drink you've been incessantly talking about before the attack," replied the soldier with a smoking addiction.

"Alright," replied the soldier who carried cigarettes. "But if you can't hold your end of the bargain, then I'll report you to our CO without hesitation."

"You have my word," replied the smoking addict.

"Hold on, I'm coming," said the soldier who was guarding the tunnel leading to the river.

That was our chance. Charlotte and I quickly climbed on the catwalk railing and proceeded to the river tunnel. Suddenly, I felt a tingle in my nose. I was about to sneeze.

Charlotte looked at me with shock. She knew I was going to give away our position.

"Watfen, don't you dare…" Charlotte said.

"Achoo!" I sneezed.

"...sneeze." Charlotte said.

"Hmmm?" said one of the soldiers.

"Crap, we gotta move now!" Charlotte said.

"Civvies!" shouted one of the soldiers.

We both ran like bats out of hell towards the river. We had no choice: it was do or die.

"Seriously, Watfen? Couldn't you hold it?" Charlotte said.

"It happened all of a sudden!" I replied. "How in the world was I supposed to predict it?"

"Let's follow them!" shouted one of the soldiers.

"No, I have a better idea. Dillan, man the valve. We're about to give them a reason to run faster," said one of the soldiers whose voice echoed through the tunnel.

"Valve?" Charlotte said. "Don't tell me they're…"

Suddenly I could hear and see a rush of water coming from behind us. The bastards: they were going to flush us out!

"Charlotte, whatever you do, just RUN!" I shouted.

"There, the end of the tunnel. We're nearly there!" Charlotte said.

The rush of water became louder and was closing in on us. I could feel my heart beat incessantly. Would we make it?

But I looked behind once more and realized that the water rush was only 15 feet away from us. We could not outrun it, but I had another idea.

"Charlotte, the water rush is too close for us to outrun it. We'll have to jump at the last minute!" I told Charlotte.

"Wait, what?" said Charlotte as she looked behind and was horrified by the sight of the water rush being so close to us.

"On the count of three. One, two, three. NOW!" I shouted.

We both jumped out of the tunnel and into the river as the water rush was so close to us that it was rubbing our backs. The water rush catapulted us further into the river. We both landed in the river and realized that we made it. We quickly and subsequently swam to the surface to catch our breath.

"Damn, for a second I thought we were gonners," Charlotte said.

"I've got to admit, that sneeze of mine was almost our undoing," I said.

"Well, at least we're still breathing," Charlotte replied.

"Okay, let's get out of here before…" I said.

Suddenly we could hear voices in the distance. The Confederates were looking for us.

"They likely made it out alive." shouted one of the soldiers. "Search the area and make sure that their corpses are floating in the river!"

"Son of a gun, they won't let up! Alright, plan B: let's hide under that pipe. Water is still pouring from it, so the waterfall should provide us cover," I said.

Charlotte and I both swam towards the pipe and hid under it. The soldiers were closing in, and we knew that this time, we wouldn't be able to outrun them if we were spotted once more.

"I don't see any bodies," said one of the soldiers. "Maybe the river whisked them away or something."

"I want to be extra sure that they met their maker. Besides, we're both going to receive disciplinary action from Harding if we come back empty handed," replied one of the soldiers.

The soldiers were now standing right next to us. I could hear them breathing heavily under the gasmask they were wearing. I started to quietly pray that we would be spared from death and given another chance at life.

"Seems clear to me," said one of the soldiers. "Let's just tell Harding that the river whisked their bodies away. I don't care if we're given disciplinary action."

"Fine," replied one of the soldiers. "Let's just get out of here and make sure that no other civilians make it out of town."

"But what about the two sewer rats, sir?" another soldier asked.

"Fuck 'em. I don't see the point in retrieving their corpses when we could just kill the other civvies," replied one of the soldiers.

The soldiers started to move out and walked back to town. Charlotte let out a deep sigh of relief, and we both made our way across the wide river.

When we reached the other end of the river, we got out of the water and looked behind to see that Meppel was reduced to ashes. My town, the one place I called home, was gone.

"Watfen, I'm sorry. I wish more could have been done to save Meppel," Charlotte said.

"Why did it have to come to this?" I said. "Is this the price we pay for trying to live in peace during a time of war?"

I couldn't help but look down, knowing that I did nothing to save my home. But we were taken by surprise, and my instincts told me to run and pray that Charlotte and I would make it out alive.

"Watfen, I know how you feel. I'm also saddened by what happened. But right now, we need to get to safety as soon as possible. We can't afford to suffer the same fate as those caught in the attack," Charlotte said.

"But where can I go?" I replied. "My only home has been decimated by the Confederates."

"That doesn't mean it's lost forever," Charlotte replied.

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Watfen, are you willing to fight for your beliefs?," Charlotte said.

"Fight? You mean enlist in the Army?" I said.

"Precisely," Charlotte replied.

At first, I thought Charlotte was joking. But her straight face and serious tone said otherwise.

"Charlotte, how can my services be of any use in the Army? I'm just a pastor," I said.

"People in this country didn't join the Army solely because of universal conscription, but also because they lost their homes and wish to return to their original ways of life. They need a voice that's willing to guide them to victory and empower their morale. You have something that no other individual in Gallia has, Watfen. You have the voice our country needs," Charlotte said.

I had a hard time believing what she just said, but I understood where she was going. To Charlotte, the lecture I conducted earlier today was a testament to my ability to persuade others to believe in hope and prosperity. If it worked with my pupils, then surely the same could apply to soldiers.

Suddenly half-a-dozen Gallian soldiers appeared in the distance and were closing in on us.

"Ms. Dujour!" one of the soldiers shouted.

"Ms. Dujour, are you alright?" the soldier asked.

"Yes, and I owe my life to this man. He managed to get me out of town safe and sound," replied Charlotte.

The soldier looked at me with a curious face. He was wondering how a pastor was able to save a Gallian agent from Confederates.

"What's your name, son?" the soldier asked.

"Watfen. Jacob Watfen," I replied.

"Watfen, we simply can't thank you enough for looking after Ms. Dujour. She is one of Lady Cordelia's finest agents, and I'm certain your actions will not go unrewarded," the soldier said.

"What do you say, Watfen? Still want to help others reclaim their livelihoods?" Charlotte asked.

After all I've done, and considering that Meppel was razed to the ground, I couldn't say no. Besides, what else was I supposed to do?

"Gladly," I replied.

Upon hearing my response, Charlotte and the soldier smiled. I was ready to help them push back the Confederates.

"Alright, in that case, we'll have to quickly head back to Randgriz and let the others know of what happened here," the soldier said. "By attacking Meppel, the Confederates are inviting us to war. We'll gladly accept their invitation."

And so we started to head for Randgriz, knowing that the only way to avert future Confederate disasters was to fight back and reclaim what was stolen from us.


End file.
